Sunday. Round the two-mile square.
I see where the common great tufted sedge (Carex stricta) has started under the water on the meadows, now fast falling. The white maple at the bridge not quite out. See a water-bug and a frog. Hylas are heard to-day.
I see where the meadow flood has gone down in a bay on the southeast side of the meadow, whither the foam had been driven. A delicate scum now left an inch high on the grass. It is a dirty white, yet silvery, and as thin as the thinnest foil, often unbroken and apparently air-tight for two or three inches across and almost as light as gossamer. What is the material? It is a kind of paper, but far more delicate than man makes.
Saw in a roadside gutter at Simon Brown’s barn a bird like the solitary tattler, with a long bill, which at length flew off to the river. But it may have been a small species of snipe.